


The Things I Do (Just for a Little Peace and Quiet)

by TenMoreSins



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Tony Stark, Impact Play, M/M, Overstimulation, Pre-BARF, Quentin Beck is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenMoreSins/pseuds/TenMoreSins
Summary: JARVIS has the windows on blackout mode, the lights dim but not too dark for Beck to see precisely what he’s doing, so even if Tony were remotely capable of being aware of the passage of time, he has no way to tell how long he’s been here.“You back with me again, Mister Stark?”The twenty something has no right to sound so sickeningly smug as Tony’s glazed eyes fight to focus on his face, wanting to both lean into and jerk away from the hand that pushes his damp hair away from his forehead. He catches that catlike grin before Beck is out of sight once more and knows they’re about to begin again.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: Thwip & Hari's Kinktober '20





	The Things I Do (Just for a Little Peace and Quiet)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my fic for Thwip and Hari's Kinktober event! My prompts were Overstimulation and Impact Play, and I totally decided to take a different tack than using Peter as the obvious choice for the former, so here we are!
> 
> Why yes, I AM still working on everything else in my queue, I assure you, but everybody needs a refreshing challenge every so often right?

When Tony feels the delicate caress of the flogger’s tails across his hip, he doesn’t even know how long it’s been since his last orgasm, time a meaningless concept when everything is narrowed down to each point of contact on his heated skin. He’s pretty sure he was drifting there for a while, thinks he probably heard Beck go for a glass of water and oh. Yep. There it is, just beyond his reach on the nightstand, or it would be if his wrists weren’t bound to the bedposts.

As the tails skim along his spine, he gasps, arches, barely has the room to do even that with how securely he’s bound. Beck’s genius saw to that. There’s the bar between his ankles keeping his legs spread wide enough but not so much he needs to tap out, and the ropes looped behind each of his knees that are hooked to the collar around his throat; those make sure his ass stays up just so, giving him too little leeway to stretch out. 

Tony’s pretty sure that before everything was just sensation he clocked an extra bar connected to the one between his feet, likely hooked at the footboard of the bed. It would explain why he can’t tuck his knees further under himself to get away from the tortuous tease of the flogger.

Everywhere it touches, it tingles, and Beck takes his time drawing it all over Tony’s back, over his flanks, along the backs of his thighs. He’s shivering by the time it stops again, trembling and writhing against his restraints as he pants shakily against the sheets, feeling like he’s covered head to toe in a fine sheen of sweat. The light strokes are a far cry from the stinging kisses he knows will come again, just like the last however many times they’ve done this in the past however long.

JARVIS has the windows on blackout mode, the lights dim but not too dark for Beck to see precisely what he’s doing, so even if Tony were remotely capable of being aware of the passage of time, he has no way to tell how long he’s been here.

“You back with me again, Mister Stark?”

The twenty something has no right to sound so sickeningly smug as Tony’s glazed eyes fight to focus on his face, wanting to both lean into and jerk away from the hand that pushes his damp hair away from his forehead. He catches that catlike grin before Beck is out of sight once more and knows they’re about to begin again.

Knowing doesn’t stop the strangled cry he lets out as the flogger’s tails crack across his shoulders like a dozen lines of fire, reigniting already fried nerves and making him jerk against his bindings. The second blow crisscrosses the first, a web of needles everywhere the lashes intersect, and he writhes, no amount of bunching his shoulders easing the sensation until it ebbs into a familiar heat on its own. He knows his back must be a pretty pattern of welts, fresh and fading.

“ _Please_ -” Tony croaks, throat raw and too dry as he tries in vain to swallow past it, muscles twitching with the aftershocks. It earns him another two lashes to his upper thighs, high enough he can feel the whoosh of air as each blow narrowly misses his balls. He yelps, twitching away as much as he can, trailing off on a whimper as he feels the tears prick at his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall, doesn’t want to give Beck the satisfaction (though he’ll be damned if he can even understand his own defiance right now).

“Please what, sir?” Beck asks, sickly sweet, grin evident in his voice, and Tony wracks his overwrought brain, trying to fight past the fuzziness to figure out _what indeed_. How did he even get here? He can’t stop the tremors that keep rattling his bones, and when the buzzing starts up against his prostate again he _shouts_ , hoarse and desperate. He’d forgotten about the toy in his ass, couldn’t even feel it under all the other sensations.

“Beck, _stop_ , please, _enough_ , enough, Jesus _fuck_ I can’t anymore _I can’t_!” Tony begs, straining like mad against his restraints as if he can get away from the vibrations that are just this side of too much. He can’t breathe, he can’t think beyond the need to get away, blood pounding in his ears and throbbing painfully in his neglected cock as it struggles to stiffen anew despite how thoroughly spent it is.

“I don’t know, Mister Stark, I think you can take a little more,” Beck counters, just a bit cruel as the tails whip right across Tony’s cheeks, jostling the plug and making him outright _sob_ , pain and pleasure overlapping and bleeding into each other so thoroughly he can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. “I don’t think you know _what_ you want, sir, your cock is weeping as much as you are.”

Not that Tony can feel that, exactly, barely able to recognize his own body at this point. There’s another blow, and then another, again and again until all he knows is fire from his shoulders to his knees, feels like his atoms are going to shake apart if this goes on any longer. He can’t recognize his own voice, broken and pleading, tears streaming down his face feeling as hot as the entirety of his backside, and still the toy buzzes on, relentless.

“ _Beck-_ ” he chokes out, distantly hearing a clatter that must be the flogger hitting the floor. And then Beck is bent over him, skin almost cool compared to the heat of his own.

“Shhhh, I know, Tony, I know,” he soothes, and Tony whimpers, every minute movement triggering a chain reaction all the way down his back. He sobs again in relief as the buzzing stops and Beck pulls the toy out, babbling his thanks automatically, but it’s a short lived reprieve and he really should’ve known.

“One more, you can do that for me right? I know you can,” Beck breathes, voice a little shaky as he starts to push into the space vacated by the plug, even as Tony gasps and whimpers and sobs out _no, nononono, no please I can’t_. “ _Fuck_ you’re so tight like this, sir, look so good on my cock,” he groans out, ignoring Tony’s pleading as he starts to move.

 _One more_ , as if everything Tony is hasn’t been wrung out of him already, Beck’s hips driving against his abused ass just flaring up the pain with every thrust. He loses his words, devolving into broken syllables, grunts, sobs and choked breaths, but when Beck reaches for his limp, overstimulated cock, he _howls_ , a sound totally foreign to his ears. It’s so far beyond too much that it’s almost looped back around to okay, the dual stimulation of practiced strokes and the drag of Beck’s cockhead against his prostate every few thrusts enough to fill him out again even if the _how_ is a mystery to his shattered mind.

And against all reason, Beck does manage to wring out _one more_ , making Tony shake apart so hard he blacks out, only one thought running through his mind as consciousness leaves him and takes all the sensation with it.

_Finally._

-

Tony comes to again to the sensation of a cool cloth gently running over his body, every muscle aching and skin stretched tight along his backside. He lazily takes note of the fact that he’s lying face down, restraints gone, the expected stickiness between his ass cheeks surprisingly absent. Even the tightness of tear tracks on his face is missing, and he wonders at just how out of it he must’ve been for Beck to have taken care of this much without rousing him.

Incredibly, he’s not even lying on sweat and come soaked sheets, a dry pillow beneath his head and everything.

“Welcome back,” Beck murmurs, entering his line of sight and reaching for the glass on the nightstand. “Feeling better?” His eyes are back to being soft, fathomless blue, and as Tony opens his mouth to try and utter a response, the glass is proffered with a gentle smile. Considering his throat feels like sandpaper in the Sahara when he tries to swallow, he just nods, the cool liquid sliding down blissful enough he would moan if he could, eyelids fluttering as is. Still, heavy as his limbs feel, he can only stay propped up for so long, thanking his wild younger years for his trained ability to sip from a glass while prone without spilling it.

When he’s done, Beck takes the glass back and crawls up onto the bed with him, pulling up the sheets and tucking Tony’s stinging back against his front, nose pressed into sweat damp hair. The soft rumble of his voice uttering all the praise and reassurance Tony needs after a session like that easily lulls him, seems to add to the weighty looseness that suffuses his whole body.

“Sleep,” Beck tells him, already sounding far away. There are reasons he just needs to shed all sense of responsibility every now and then, his heavy eyelids and these moments of pervading calm in the storm of his thoughts sitting up at the forefront.

Mind finally blissfully blank, Tony sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on Discord! I'm part of a [Spiderio server](https://discord.gg/FumvCxwsKy) (but other ships are also welcome)! I like sharing sneak peaks sometimes.


End file.
